SLADE

 

 

IT WAS like 1973 all over again. Gary Glitter on the disco, even a member of the Glitter Band amongst the liggers. The crowd was a strange mixture of skinheads, erstwhile fans and even a few tinyboppers brought along by mum and dad (or was it mum and dad who were the fans?)

The last Slade gig I saw was a terrible confusion of indulgance and pretension. This time they were back on the right tracks, no guitar solos at all, and only one bass solo from Jim Lea (not quite forgivable) and a crazed violin solo, which was so silly it was forgiveable.

Thank God for that.

We've got back the Slade we knew and loved. Well almost. Their stage show still smacks of nostalgia: the new material does not compare well. Of course, Slade could keep on churning out the old stuff till either Noddy's vocal chords or Dave Hill's boots wore out, but sooner or later they'd run out of audience.

Already they've come down from the Hammersmith Odeon to The Music Machine, which is a welcome move for me, as the latter is by far the better venue, but in terms of prestige, it's a lot more lowly.

No, what Slade need to do now is produce some decent new material that measures up to the oldies, and still, goldies. If they can do that they will I'm sure, regain their rightful place as resoected old timers like.....Rod Stewart....or Status Quo....or...well, you know who I mean, don't you?

 

SHEILA PROPHET / RECORD MIRROR / 5th December 1978

image courtesy of Dave Kemp